If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know I spent last month in Vermont watching my oldest play lacrosse. It’s his senior year, so I’m trying to go to every game to cheer him on in person.
The season isn’t over, so now that I’m back home, that means twice weekly car rides to away games. Some are very long, one-day up-and-back trips. Others require an overnight stay and a long drive home the next day. Either way, it’s a lot of time in the car, and it’s taking its toll.
Because I can’t write and drive, I’m barely working these days. As much as that sucks for my wallet, the bigger sacrifice is my body.
At 53, I’m in pretty good shape. I exercise 6 days a week and move my body daily to help keep both my mood and my digestion in check. But sitting in the car for 5-6 hours at a time, then sitting on hard bleachers for 2+ hours before sitting in the car again for another 5-6 hours is interrupting my bodily rhythm. I can’t sleep. I can’t poop. And I can barely move because of leg cramps and neuropathy flares. It’s not good.
But here’s the thing I keep reminding myself of: in a few weeks, it’ll all be over. Forever. H’s 17-year lacrosse career is quickly coming to a close, and I want to be there to witness it all—even if it means being tired, constipated, and sore.
So if you see me hobbling around town in between games, just keep walking. This is what a middle-aged mother’s love looks like.
—LJDT
